


That Boy Ain't Right (Playlists, Punishment, and Pink)

by steveelotaku



Category: Lollipop Chainsaw
Genre: Coping, Dark Comedy, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Song Lyrics, Therapy, There Are No Therapists, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveelotaku/pseuds/steveelotaku
Summary: Juliet makes an unexpected discovery when helping a classmate out of a locker he's been shoved into.Or, what would happen if anyone in San Romero had any sense in their heads.Or not, because Juliet's idea of therapy could hardly be called conventional.Songs referenced:Blood--My Chemical RomanceEverybody (Backstreet's Back)--Backstreet BoysHate Her to Death--Insane Clown Posse





	That Boy Ain't Right (Playlists, Punishment, and Pink)

If Swan had one fault in the world, he supposed (and he rarely supposed he had faults), it was that he never quite knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"Well, if it isn't the dead bitch," one of San Romero's questionably-named Knights said, shoving Swan. "How come you never stay dead?"

"How come your mother couldn't keep a goat out of her snatch?" Swan shot back, irritably.

The football player snapped.

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

Swan was a slight man, but he more than made up for his lack of build in sheer defiance.

"I said, how come your mother couldn't stop fucking goats, you atavistic, inbred, coprophagic--"

"Speak fucking English!"

"Okay, homeboy. How. Come. Your. Mom. Couldn't. Stop. Fucking. Goats. You. Backward. Redneck. Shit-eating..."

What else Swan might have said was cut off by him being stuffed violently into the nearest locker, which as chance would have it, was Swan's own. He coughed out blood, a gesture he thought only happened in ill-conceived anime series involving bright orange ninja. The damage was doubtless internal, he supposed; it was nothing dark magic couldn't fix. That said, getting unstuck would be a difficult matter, especially since he'd been roughly folded inside. If this abominable athlete managed to lock him in, it would take even longer. He might even have to scream for help, and that was downright undignified.

He could live with the constant humiliation and the fact half the school had seen his dick on display. The fact he was better hung than most of the athletes made it more livable.

Being stuck in a tight space that wasn't a cheerleader? That was downright degrading.

As the one goth kid in San Romero, Swan was a bit of a curiosity, a word which here means "an insufferable know-it-all who stands out as much as possible."

"Hey! Like, what the dick do you think you're doing?!"

Juliet Starling.

The voice, bright and perky, yet certainly angry, echoed through the hallway. The quarrelsome quarterback quickly and quietly slid back from the locker, dropping the lock as quickly as possible.

"J-Juliet!" he exclaimed. "It's just a harmless joke--"

"I, like, hope you weren't planning on locking him in! You leave him alone or I'm not cheering tomorrow's game!"

Swan's heart began to race, a feeling he hoped was just love and not the fact a demon skull was beginning to stab into his ass.

"Juliet, help!" he called out, choking on the smell of unburned incense in his locker. "I'm stuck!"

Pushing the much-bigger-boy aside, Juliet flung open the door and began to pull Swan out.

"You okay, Swan? Like, geez, that was totally rude of him..."

As chance would have it, Swan's book fell out of the locker as he did, landing fortuitously on the open page detailing his nihilistic worldview.

MY NAME IS NOT IMPORTANT. FINE. IT IS.

MY NAME IS SWAN AND WHAT I'M GOING TO DO IS IMPORTANT.

I FUCKING HATE EVERYBODY, AND I ALWAYS WANTED TO DIE VIOLENT--

WAIT, NO. I WANT THEM TO DIE VIOLENTLY. NOT ME. JULIET CAN LIVE TOO.

...WHERE WAS I GOING WITH THIS? 

HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE, EXCEPT WHEN IT'S EMPTY AND ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE, AND...

What followed was about ten lines of Joy Division lyrics and margin doodles of stuff from _Heavy Metal_.

Juliet's expression went from concern to anger.

"Swan, like, you have some explaining to do..."

"J-Juliet!" he protested. "It's ironic, it's not--"

She held up the book and pointed at a cut out photo from a yearbook of Juliet's head, which had been pasted onto a nude model.

"Is this ironic too? Like, I'm a blonde, but I'm not, like, stupid, Swan! You even put it in a heart, like...like..."

Knocking him down in her frenzied search of his locker, barely pausing to let Swan mutter an "ow," she pulled out the demon skull.

"Dark magic shit? Swan, I could kill you! Like, are you wondering why everyone here treats you like, badly? I mean...okay...they're jerks. But, like, NOT HELPING YOUR CASE!"

Swan felt himself being dragged down the hallway towards an office marked GUIDANCE.

The office door was dusty; no one had used it for some time, which perhaps said more about San Romero than anyone cared to think.

She opened the door, walked into an empty office, and sat Swan down on the couch, pausing only to duct-tape him to it.

"Juliet, what the--"

"I'm getting you therapy, Marilyn Manson! What, like, did you think this was, foreplay? Like, you wish."

Swan hung his head.

"You do know this school _has _no therapist, right?"

"Which is why I'm doing it, Swan."

She sat down in the office chair and slid over to Swan, not even bothering keeping her legs crossed, giving Swan a nice view up her skirt.

"Cute, Barbie," Swan deadpanned. "I'm gonna get the Sigmund Freud treatment from Toni Basil over here."

Juliet slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth.

"Okay, wiseass. If you don't wanna play nice, we'll talk differently. They say, like, music can alter moods and talk to you. I think Eminem said that. So like, why don't you tell me how you're feeling through song?"

She pulled out a laptop and opened up Spotify.

"Play the first song that comes to mind to tell me how you feel right now."

Swan tapped a few keys, and pretty soon, Juliet got an earful.

_Well, they encourage your complete cooperation_

_Send ya roses when they think you need to smile_

_I can't control myself because I don't know how_

_And they love me for it honestly_

_I'll be here for a while._

Juliet reached over and paused it.

"My Chemical Romance? Really? Is _that _how you feel? Like some crazy person?"

Swan nodded.

"Why, though?" she asked. "Wait. This is about me, right?"

_Everybody, rock your body..._

Swan paused the song after his answer came out in it--Backstreet Boys was like goth kryptonite.

"So it's everyone, then. Okay, like, I can get that. If I wasn't like, totally cute, and couldn't be me, I'd probably hate this place too. But like...what about me? I mean, surely, you weren't like, getting up to anything nasty over little old me?"

_She's always savin' my life, but she don't belong to me_

_I fuckin' hate her to death._

_She tells me things are alright, but she don't belong to me._

_..._

_She's funny, she's shining, she's happy..._

_I fuckin' hate her to death._

Juliet frowned.

"I didn't think you were a Juggalo, even if you do look similar...but...ohmygod, Swan, is that how you feel about me? Like, you're jealous?! God. Like. Do you wanna fuck me or be me? Like, it's hard to tell!"

Swan sighed through the tape, barely audible.

"Swan, I wish I could say I love you, but like...I don't. Not like, like that? I care about you, I like, want you to stop hurting yourself, but..."

She leaned in and straddled his legs, whispering in his ear.

"I know what you are now, and I kill people like you for a living. I don't want to, but I will if I have to."

She jumped off as if she'd been struck by lightning.

"OH. MY. GOD. DID YOU JUST GET A BONER?!"

Swan indeed, was quite flustered and turned on, muttering furiously against the gag.

"I'm, like, in over my head, just...gah...what do I do?!" Juliet exclaimed, pacing around. "I thought music helped people!"

Irritated, Swan finally broke free of the tape and tore it from his mouth, painfully.

"Oww, okay, Juliet! Just! Shut the fuck up!" he exclaimed. "You don't know how to help me, so why the fuck are you trying?! I'm pretty sure therapists don't do glorified bondage scenarios with death threats!"

"I'm pretty sure normal people don't get hard-ons from death threats, Swan!"

In an instant, the two were at each other's throats, wrestling and clawing at each other.

"Cocktease!"

"Wet blanket!

"Village bicycle!"

"School shooter!"

"Oh, that was low, Juliet! I was gonna use bombs! And zombies!"

"Mad scientist!"

"Okay, see, that's fairer! Blonde bimbo!"

As they fought, Nick Carlyle burst into the room from the hallway. He took one look and saw Juliet with her uniform top half-undone and hanging off of her, and Swan with a bloody nose.

"You know what?" Nick said, walking in. "You _both _need therapy. I'm calling the cops."

"DON'T!" both exclaimed, rushing over to him.

"Please don't do it," Juliet said. "I love you and I can't spend a month behind bars!"

"I don't even know you, but I'm guessing you're Juliet's boyfriend and I hate you but I don't want to go to jail either!" Swan protested.

Nick sighed.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, shaking his head. "But you both need to get laid."

"Let's do this threesome?" Swan asked, winking.

Nick raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously? I'm gonna need a lot more alcohol..."

"We've like, got an empty room," Juliet teased. "But I'm not banging Swan! He's creepy!"

Nick walked over to the tattered book Swan wrote all of his dark spells and evil schemes in.

"Hey, Juliet. If Swan's really horny, how come he hasn't just...summoned a succubus, or something? He has like...is that a zombie hippie? She's pretty hot, Swan, like...dude! You CAN RAISE AN ARMY OF UNDEAD AND DEMONS AND YOU'RE COMPLAINING YOU CAN'T GET A DATE?!"

The goth kid's face fell. It had somehow never occurred to him.

"If you let me leave with my book, I promise you can have the evil plan pages to burn," Swan said. "I have a long night of hot as hell action to look forward to. Thanks for the therapy, Juliet! I think you really helped me work through my issues!"

"That boy ain't right," Juliet muttered.


End file.
